Transition
by Tatsumaki-sama
Summary: ROTF. What happened before, during and after Optimus's death.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Transformers or any of its characters.

**Transition**

Optimus had originally went out to meet Bumblebee for some sort of errand. What it was, he didn't quite tell the others, though a few suspected it might have to do with Sam Witwicky.

They wanted to go with him, but he told them to remain at their stations or at base. And despite their worrying insistance that he should go with him, he reassured them that he would return within two days.

He never did.

~.~.~

It was quite a simple plan, really. In fact, Megatron was a bit surprised by the simplicity of it.

Kidnap the boy. Lure out Optimus. Kill him.

Optimus was a fine warrior. Perhaps one of the best of his generation. He knew as much as that. Adding in the fact he was a Prime only exemplified his strength and prowess. Megatron knew from experience that his brother would fight to the bitter end if it meant protecting someone he cared about.

Especially if it involved the boy. It was really too bad for Optimus that he would use it for his advantage.

He could see how much Optimus liked that pathetic excuse of an insect. He would even go so far to sacrifice his spark for these worthless humans, barely knowing them and their world to end _**their**_ war. It sickened him and disgusted how low Optimus had sunken.

(he didn't know but it might have been a hint of jealousy and resentment deep inside his chest that Optimus cared more for the boy who he had known for less than a day than his own brother)

~.~.~

They were stretched out at the base in Diego Garcia, warm and lazy under the sun. Arcee and her sisters were chatting with Lennox, Epps and a few other NEST soldiers. Mudflap and Skids were arguing again about nothing in particular with Ironhide finally losing his temper and kicking them out to the training field for some "slaggin' discipline". Ratchet was rolling his eyes while Sideswipe loudly guffawed.

It was a normal afternoon on a normal day.

Until Bumblebee's abrupt warning shrieked into the comm, stunning them into silence. Mikaela's urgent voice at someone half-sobbing could be heard in the background.

_Megatron back. Optimus and Sam being chased. Need backup. Follow signal.  
><em>

A horrible dread filled the bottom of their chests as they scrambled over each other to leave.

~.~.~

Signals blaring in his head, telling -

- vision shuddering and -

His cooling system was overheating -

- _offline! offline!_ -

- he couldn't stop -

Sam in danger -

Megatron, Starscream and Grindor surrounding him on all -

- after Sam. If they got him -

_Sam! Where was Sam?_

Pain -

Burning -

Falling -

Where was -?

Then sweet darkness ...

~.~.~

Ratchet repeatedly checked his sensors and assured himself that Optimus Prime was _**not**_ dead and this was not reality. His arms were submerged with slick energon, trying to restart an already extinguished spark that he logically knew was gone but the very human emotion of denial prevented him from realizing it.

Ironhide raged and screamed, something that frightened and stunned the others. He was down on his knees, shaking and calling for Optimus, telling him that he couldn't be dead and he angrily ordered Optimus to wake up this instant. He even viciously snapped on Ratchet, demanding that he did something to get Optimus back online when there was clearly nothing else to be done.

Jolt was speaking rapidly to no one. They eventually found out he was trying to bargain with Primus, pleading with him that it wasn't Optimus's time yet and that if he brought Optimus back, he would do anything to equate that balance. What if he did this? What if he did that? Those questions would never be fully answered.

Arcee knelt down, cradling Optimus's head in her tiny lap, too numb with grief and shock. The war was over. The Decepticons won. There was nothing else they could do. Why even bother? Optimus was their only hope and now that he was gone, what point was there to continue on without Optimus? She gave a muffled wail that her sisters echoed throughout the forest.

Sideswipe accepted Optimus's death probably the fastest out of the others. He had experienced so much death already (his twin never answered to Optimus's signal and he didn't even want to think about what might have happened) and perhaps he had gotten to a point that with the death of his leader, he simply couldn't even muster any emotion to rage or to weep. He didn't have to like it. But he had to learn to live with it.

~.~.~

Awashed in a state of numb shock, Sam sat in a rigid position, eyes wide, lips pressed into a thin line and knuckles white under his skin.

Bumblebee was quietly playing some of his favorite songs, trying to provide as much comfort and consolation into the grim mood.

Mikaela was holding his hand, trying to talk to him and whispering _it wasn't your fault not your fault_ to his ears alone, but he didn't answer.

Even Leo, who was probably even more confused and lost, gripped his shoulder and thanked whoever that at least they were still alive.

He knew none of them didn't blame him and her gentle touches and his soothing music and his warm clasp made him feel repulsed by his own skin.

He wished they would just hate him instead.

~.~.~

Epps didn't know what to say. One of the greatest beings that he had ever known was dead. Gone. Extinguished. Just like that. A blade to the chest and a gunshot later, Optimus Prime no longer existed.

It seemed impossible. For his mind kept telling him it was all a bad dream and there was no way that Optimus could have died. He was the greatest warrior in the whole universe. He had seen Optimus in battle and in training. He was invincible. He was unbeatable. Nothing could defeat the fearless and mighty leader of the Autobots. Nothing could even hope to bringing him down.

And yet ...

Optimus Prime was dead.

And there was nothing but short of a miracle that would ever bring him back.

~.~.~

He must have been dozing because when he came to consciousness, he was stretched out on the grassy lawn and his brother, much much younger than him, was glaring down at him.

" Up!" he demanded, irritably tugging at his leg. " I want to go up!"

With a smile, he lifted the boy in a single fluid movement, tossing him up into the air, an easy feat for him at his height. There was a squeal of laughter, mixed in with whistles and clicks, and he watched as his brother's golden hair danced in the air.

" I'm flying! I'm flying!" he chirped in a ludicrous tone as if following a song on the radio. " Like a bumblebee! A bumble bumble bumblebee!"

~.~.~

The Autobots all stood in a protective circle around their fallen leader, as they waited and watched. They did not move and barely spoke, optics glinting in the dark. They were like a pack of wolves, surrounding their child, protecting it from any further danger or harm.

The moment Galloway told them to remove that hunk of scrap metal from the runway, there was a loud uproar and Ironhide was already roaring to blast the terrified human to pieces if Ratchet and Jolt hadn't held him back.

" I'll slag you to the Pit before I let you touch him!" he snarled, the whirring of his cannons enough to frighten any living being that heard them.

General Morshower finally convinced Galloway to leave the Autobots alone. " Your leader should have had more respect than that," he apologetically told Ratchet later. " If there is anything we could do ..."

" Thank you for your offer, General. But I'm afraid there is little we can do now," Ratchet replied, a rare defeated solemnity in his voice.

~.~.~

That night, Bumblebee dreamed of Optimus collapsing, energon splattered over his body, dents and gashes mauling his limbs. The once majestic figure was but a broken and defeated shadow of what it once was.

That night, Lennox dreamed watching ten tonnes of dirtied, broken armor fall before his very eyes, optics dead to the world. Then, he watched in frozen fury as Galloway towed Optimus away like a dog, piece by piece, and tossed him into the unforgiving ocean.

That night, Ironhide dreamed of a little youngling, his armor in splashes of red and blue, laughing and trying to reach him. Only to snatched up and stolen by Decepticons and his cries for help echoed dimly in his audio tracks.

That night, Ratchet dreamed of repeatedly trying to revive Optimus, trying to jolt the dying spark that was spluttering and flickering. But the spark died in his very hands and the rest of the Autobots grabbed him roughly, screaming why he let Optimus die.

That night, Sam dreamed of Optimus dying again and again, replaying in his mind and nightmares. No matter what he did or how the scenario played out, Optimus kept dying and he could only helplessly watch.

That night, Megatron did not dream but rather, he was furthering his plans, making necessary preparations. In his quieter moments, he relished Optimus's slick energon that had once glistened on his claw-like hands.

~.~.~

" How do you feel?" a gruff voice asked as soon as he woke up.

" Sore," he truthfully answered, trying to gather his surroundings. He appeared to be in some hospital that was so damn white and his head was pounding and spinning at the same time and he felt like blood was coating his mouth.

" You were stabbed in the back, then shot in the same spot, close to the heart. Of course you will feel sore," the doctor standing by his bedside irritably said. He cocked an eyebrow in amusement rather than surprise or anger. Something about this doctor's cranky, petulant behavior almost made him want to smile for some reason.

" Any idea how it happened?"

He searched his memory and found nothing. He wasn't even sure what he was doing before landing in the hospital.

" Well either way, you're lucky that guy found you." The doctor jerked a thumb over his shoulder and he was forced to squint to spot a large burly man with the appearance of a veteran who had been through several wars (or perhaps a man who liked guns too much) sitting on the other side of the glass, anxiously waiting outside the room. " He carried you all the way here and you're not the definition of light. That man has the iron hide of a beast." He shook his head, as if in annoyance and in gratification at the same time, a rare fondness that spoke more than his brusque exterior.

Smiling, he felt a wave of gratitude from these two men. But there was something else stirring in his heart, something akin to a very very old camaraderie that had lasted for eons and yet he had never met or known them until now.

" I'll check on you on later. For now, get some rest. You have a long recovery ahead of you."

" Yes, Nurse Ratchet," he cheekily replied, not even knowing why he said it in the first place.

Scowling, the doctor rolled his eyes. " Shut your trap. And go back to sleep."

~.~.~

" How are you guys doing?" Lennox finally asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

Arcee gazed mournfully at him, looking vulnerable and lost. Behind her, the rest of the Autobots remained standing, head bowed and a low murmur of Cybertronian rustling through the room in lament.

" I'm afraid not very well, Major," she sadly said. " My - our leader is dead."

~.~.~

Out of the Autobots, Ironhide probably took Optimus's death the hardest.

He was the "bodyguard", as Lennox, the other NEST personnel and the Autobots had attested to. He watched over Optimus's back and if any Decepticons was foolish enough to try to take on the Autobot leader, they would have to face with the fiercely enraged two sets of cannons.

Everyone knew that he blamed himself for not reaching Optimus in time. For not being able to stop the killing strike. For not trusting his instincts in the first place.

He should have stopped Optimus. He should have convinced him that it was too dangerous for the Autobot leader to meet up with Bumblebee on his own. The Decepticons could attack anytime and anywhere. Their main target would be Optimus himself. It was too risky, too reckless.

But the sight of one of Optimus's rare smiles made him stand down and yielded to Optimus's wishes. It haunted him as the memory replayed endlessly in his mind as Optimus drove away into the distance and one step closer to his death.

~.~.~

If Megatron had even the slightest ounce of remorse and decency left in his hardened cold spark, he might have felt the aching tug of loss at the death of his brother.

Bonds between siblings are a fascination and curiosity among their kind. They connected two mechs beyond understanding, as they shared emotions, thoughts and a link that would surpass logic and inquiring comprehension. It often rivaled the bond between sparkmates in terms of devotion and attachment. Twins are a more rarer case, vigorously studied and examined.

To sever the bond would inevitably cause unspeakable agony towards the two in question. And if one died, it was no surprise that their partner would soon join them.

Megatron and Optimus were a unique case, not only being twins but it was Megatron who severed his own bond with his brother when the war first began, to deliver the fatal strike, to wound his brother so that he would rise from the ashes and claim lordship over Cybertron.

But Optimus did not die, as much as the anguish and grief wracked his spark, sending tremors and jolts of pain through his body for the rest of his life. He endured and he survived. But even to this day, he continued to feel a swallowing pulsing void in his chest, suffocating him if he dwelled too long on it.

It only intensified when he met his brother in Mission City and watched with stunned despair as Megatron was burned alive by the AllSpark and renewed pain flooded into his chest as if it was freshly ripped open and cauterized.

And when Megatron dealt the killing blow to Optimus, the severing of the bond again alone would have killed Optimus.

~.~.~

There was something about the way the man danced that just captivated him. He spun in the air, legs kicking upwards, arms out spread, head bent back as a wild grin dashed across his handsome face.

The crowd cheered and clapped as he finished, bowing in an extravagant manner. Coins and bills clacked and fluttered into his opened suitcase. He remained where he was even as people continued on their way, carelessly bustling past him, chatting and laughing. And eventually, the man glanced up to spot him.

" Don't you have somewhere to go?" he asked, half curious half amused.

He shrugged. " Not really."

The man chuckled, placing the radio into his backpack. " We all got someplace to go. Me, I'm heading off to new places, new sights, new cities. You know all that jazz." The man smiled and there was something about that smile that was so familiar and warm that he couldn't help but smile back.

" Maybe I could go with you," he suggested.

" Nah. You gotta do what you gotta do first, y'know? There's plenty of things to finish up here before you move on." The man finished gathering his things, slinging his suitcase over his shoulder. He was still grinning that friendly Chesire grin. " Once you do that, then you can come see me."

Clapping a hand to his shoulder, the man gave him a nod before disappearing into the streets and out of view.

~.~.~

The word _Prime _made Jetfire jerk as if burned by the word. It was enough to jerk him from his half dreams and frayed insanity.

It had been so long since he had heard that word.

So long since he had hope.

His parts are rusting and he could feel them breaking little by little. Each breath would rattle in his chest and his mind was dim, already spiralling wildly out of his control. And he knows there wasn't much left in his cold, ancient parts that still tied him to this world.

But a Prime was alive and it wsa his final duty to seek and find him before it was too late.

~.~.~

If there was even the slightest chance that they could revive Optimus, Sam would take it.

He didn't know how, when or why, but he would do it. He would do it for Optimus.

It didn't matter that Leo looked almost scared of him. It didn't matter that Mikaela thought he was suffering from post traumatic stress. It didn't matter that Agent Simmons was looking at him as if he had lost his mind. Even Bumblebee twittered and whistled his concern.

He was the cause of Optimus's death and it seemed almost poetic that he would be the one to bring him back.

~.~.~

" We're moving you guys out," Lennox announced, as soon as he entered the hangar. Each step he took was brimming with an emotion that they couldn't quite put their finger on. Excitement? Impatience? Determination?

" Where?" Ironhide suspiciously said.

" I don't know, someplace like Egypt," Epps casually retorted. They knew him well enough to see the amusement glittering in his eyes.

" Egypt doesn't sounds like a nice place to visit," Ratchet grumbled, playing along. " All that sand is bound to ruin our armour."

" A bee wants to go there. Says it will help the big guy soak up some sun."

They all inadvertently glanced at the still figure lying in the dark. " And he is certain that he wants to go there?" Arcee carefully asked.

" Absolutely," Lennox replied in that same offhand voice. " He already sent us coordinates."

A slight pause. " Then what are we waiting for?" Sideswipe eagerly grinned.

~.~.~

" The sparkling must not be found."

There was a rustle and a soft click of armour. " No, he must not," a voice echoed.

If he didn't know better, he would have said that the voice sounded wistful and burdened with guilt.

" The sparkling will continue our legacy," another voice urged. " He will be the prime key to defeat our brother."

" Indeed," yet another voice agreed. " He will rise and defeat the Fallen."

The Fallen?

He frowned to himself. That name sounded familiar ...

" It is time. Quickly now, before the Fallen discovers him."

Again, who the Fallen was rested on the tip of his tongue.

A shift of movement. Silent and solemn. He recognized the first voice whispering final words to the sparkling before they would part forever. What words the voice had spoken to the sparkling he could not hear.

But it reminded him of a warm caress of a father.

~.~.~

" Sam better be right about this," Epps muttered to Lennox, as the sand clung thickly to their clothes, itching terribly and all the soldiers would have loved nothing more than to return to their nice air-conditioned homes.

The Autobots were silent and motionless figures. Even as the sand began to mount on their armour, they remained where they were.

Lennox shrugged. " Well, the kid hasn't let us down yet."

~.~.~

What would Optimus do in this situation?

It was something Bumblebee mused to himself as he sped quickly through the pathless roads, trying to evade the Decepticons that continually fired upon him and his charges who screamed and cowered in the back.

Bumblebee only had his own wits to survive. And his hope that Sam would be able to make it.

~.~.~

Sam had not been expecting it. He could see Lennox and Epps waving him over, their lips forming words that were blown away by the blasts of Ironhide's cannons. He knew his parents were with Bumblebee and therefore safe at the present time. The rest of the Decepticons howled and crumbled like dust by the onslaught of artillery from above. Mikaela's hand was clenched tightly in his and was strangely warm and comfortable amidst the chaos and madness surrounding them.

He thought he had made it.

That's when Megatron fired and his life flashed too quickly and suddenly for him to see.

Was this how Optimus felt when his brother stabbed him through the chest?

Was this what the soldiers lying prone in the desert sand saw before their vision darkened?

He wondered.

~.~.~

" You must go back."

A voice jolted him from deep sleep that had held him strong. He stirred sluggishly, trying to open his eyes but couldn't.

" It is not your time. They are calling for you. They need you."

He squinted. He could barely make out a shadowed figure standing before him. There were other figures (was there seven? Thirteen?) standing in distance, silently watching him.

" You have been given a long road to walk. But you need not fear. For I am with you. From the very beginning until the very end."

He knew the voice. It was from a time long, long ago but he was certain that he recognized it. There was something about it that warmed his heart and there was an overwhelming need to reach out and to embrace this - this person who had cared for and loved him like a son, however briefly their time together was.

" Who are you?" he finally asked, already falling into the dark once more. " Are you my - ?"

The figure chose to return a question of his own." Perhaps it is better to ask: who are you?"

Darkness swallowed him as he struggled to answer.

~.~.~

The Matrix glowed warmly in his hands and Sam feared that he might just drop it. He held it reverently, clasped between his two hands, as he moved quickly to Optimus's body. The soldiers and the Autobots watched him in awe, almost fearfully.

Optimus's armour was cool against his bruised and burnt fingers. Sam gripped the Matrix harder, eyes closed, mouth moving wordlessly, willing all his desire and desperation into it. _Please,_ he begged. _Let this work._

Then, he slammed the Matrix into Optimus's heart with all his strength.

~.~.~

Something jolting in his chest -

- a tickle.

Then, a shudder ...

Warmth spread rapidly -

- from his chest to the rest of -

His cooling system greedily sucked in -

... optics snapped open ...

Light blinded him -

Hearing voices all distorted -

_Optimus! Optimus!_

Shakily pushing himself up ...

... and stared into the eyes of the Fallen.

There was work to be done.

~.~.~.~

**Author's Notes:**

With the release of the third movie, I couldn't help but add this little tidbit inspired by the second movie.

I couldn't resist but add the five stages of grief by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross for the Autobots when dealing with Prime's death. I like to think that even they can react in such a human way.

The part about Optimus already dying before being stabbed and shot by Megatron was inspired by the fanfic **_Angle and Plane_** by _Borath_, where Ironhide suspected and concluded that Optimus's systems were already shutting down and going offline by the time he went all berserk on the Decepticons.


End file.
